Despicable Dad
by madmongoose5876
Summary: Vector's father isn't at all pleased with him after he returns from the moon. He's given one last chance to prove his worth before his dad throws him out to fend for himself.
1. Chapter 1

Vector had watched numerous villains walk the long hallway of the Bank of Evil. There hadn't been one yet that didn't exude some degree of nervousness no matter how many times they had been there already. Not that he could blame them; the loaning of money wasn't taken lightly by his father. Even the architecture of the building was designed to intimidate its customers.

But never Vector. Being the only son of a rich banker definitely had its perks; he would never need to worry about his own father denying him any sum of money he might need. He was financially secure for life…at least…as long as his evil plots were successful.

For the first time, Vector knew exactly how the other villains felt as he made his way to the reception desk at the other end. Mr. Perkins was not tolerant of failure; especially when it involved his son. And getting stuck on the moon and requiring a multi-million dollar rocket to rescue him was considered quite a big failure, he was sure.

The lady at the desk spoke into the intercom before he even got to the desk, "Mr. Perkins, your son is here to see you."

Vector could hear the irritated edge to his father's voice when he replied, and he got an even worse sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He took a deep breath then began ascending the stairs that led to his father's office. It had been a long time since he had been truly in trouble with his father, before he had started becoming successful as a villain, for sure. But he remembered his father's constant disappointment in him when he was a kid, especially after he entered high school. Mr. Perkins had never said it outright, but Vector knew that he would have preferred his son to have been a large, intimidating villain who could threaten with just a look, someone more like himself. Instead, he had gotten Vector.

He hesitated for several seconds when he got to the door, fearful of what might be in store for him once he entered. He had to swallow hard to wet his rapidly drying throat, before finally reaching for the handle.

"…mmn…hi, dad…"

Mr. Perkins didn't look up from the paperwork on his desk, "Have a seat, Victor."

Vector didn't bother to correct his father on his name this time; it was one of the few times that he actually knew when to keep his mouth shut. He seated himself in the chair opposite his father and waited. He was made even more uncomfortable by the long silence in which his father continued to read what was laid out on his desk, occasionally making a note in the margin. He busied himself with tugging at the stitching of his orange sleeve absent mindedly, knowing how awkward he looked but unable to change it.

Finally, Vector found the courage to speak.

"Uh…thanks for sending that rocket, dad…"

Silence.

"I…don't think I would have lasted much longer up there," he chuckled weakly, "I was running out of oxygen, and it's a lot colder on the moon than you'd think."

Still no response.

"I was…afraid I was gonna get frostbite on my—"

"Do you _know_ how much that rocket cost, Victor?"

Vector felt his stomach churn, again, "Um…a lot?" he lowered his head, glancing up at his father from behind his oversized glasses nervously.

"Five hundred forty nine million nine hundred eighty seven thousand six hundred and seventy three dollars…"

"…oh—" Vector was cut off again as his father leaned over the desk towards him.

"…and _thirty two cents_."

Vector tugged at the bottom edge of his warm-up jacket, "I'm sorry."

His father looked a bit taken aback.

"You're _sorry_?" he repeated, "Hm…"

He stood from his chair, hands behind his back, and slowly made his way around the desk and behind Vector's chair.

"You fail to steel the moon, you let that old has-been, Gru, _outsmart_ you…" he shook his head, "you get stuck outside the Earth's atmosphere, and you force _me_ to spend five hundred forty nine _million_ nine hundred eighty seven _thousand_ six hundred and seventy three dollars and _thirty-two-cents_ in order to bring you back empty handed."

"Dad, I—"

"And all you can say is 'I'm sorry'."

"I'm s-…I didn't…I-I _tried_…"

"You know…" Mr. Perkins rounded the other side of his desk to stand on the opposite side of his chair, "I knew that my son wasn't particularly _strong_. I knew he was socially awkward and would never really fit in with normal society…"

Vector felt a sharp stab at those words.

"…but I never thought he was _stupid_."

He felt an even sharper stab. Vector couldn't even look at his father at this point.

"…until now."

"I…" Vector stuttered, "Dad, I know it was a stupid mistake, but… I-I promise it won't happen again."

He glanced up to his father again to see that permanently engrained scowl, "I _will_ reimburse you for the rocket, dad, I _will_. I'll figure something out."

His father chuckled again, "You really think that you can come up with that amount of money without my financial help?"

"Just give me a chance," Vector pleaded, "I know I can do it somehow; I'll just steel something else, and—"

There were a few more moments of silence as his father reseated himself, picking up his gold-plated pen and tapping it on the desk.

"Alright, Victor. I'll give you another chance."

Vector sat upright in his chair with a smile, "_Yes!_ You won't regret it, dad, I _swear_! My next plan will buy you twenty rockets just like that one!"

He almost vibrated with giddiness as he opened the door out of his father's office, "The next time I see you, I will once again be the greatest villain of all time!"

"Victor."

He turned back and looked through the door to his father, who was already looking over his paperwork again.

"This is your last chance."


	2. Chapter 2

"Ugh! Where are my frikkin' keys?"

An assortment of clothes and stray objects soared across the tiny apartment as Devon dug through the mess on her floor.

"I don't see how I could have lost them! I put them RIGHT HERE!"

Of course, by 'right here', she meant in the midst of a pile of clothes she had yet to put up after washing.

She jumped when she heard a snort from behind her and she turned to the furry lump on her couch. Underneath the thick tufts of fur, a small gleam caught her eye, and she spotted one of her key chains dangling from the edge of the cushion.

"Petunia!"

There was another snarl, and the fur-ball shifted to reveal a weasel-like face and sharp claws that threatened to dig into the already shabby couch.

Devon marched over to the chubby creature and snatched the keys from under its bulk, "Bad wolverine! I've warned you about taking my things!"

Petunia yawned, flipped onto her back nonchalantly, and dozed off once more.

Devon rolled her eyes at her lazy pet as she grabbed her bag and hurried out of her apartment and down the stairs, shuffling around for her cell phone to check the time.

"Crap! I'm late!"

She nearly trampled over the front door and ran across the parking lot, jumping into her old car. She barely even shut the door before starting it and backing out of her parking space (in which she was parked almost diagonally).

She breathed in deeply through her nose and out through her mouth as she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road.

"Phew…ok, you'll by fine, D. Your plan is good; Mr. Perkins will be sure to give you that loan. You've just gotta be assertive. Those business types like that…right?"

She ran over her spiel over and over again. It sounded great in her head, but she had a nagging feeling in the back of her mind that it would all come out in a jumbled, stuttering mess.

She felt almost nauseous as she pulled up to the bank; her throat was drying out already. Nine fifty-six, if she went in now, she would be right on time.

"Well…ready as I'll ever be, I guess…"

She looked around as she went in to be sure no one was watching her. As usual, the only person present was the teller who was currently fast asleep.

Good. She hated having to casually sneak into the men's bathroom without anyone noticing. Honestly, she didn't understand why they didn't make an auxiliary entrance through the women's bathroom. She also would have preferred not to have to get close enough to a urinal for it to scan her retina, but she really had no time to worry about these things at the moment. She was going over and over her plan so fast in her head that it would have sounded like another language if she repeated it all out loud.

She knew this. She KNEW this.

It almost surprised her when she realized that she was standing in front of the reception desk.

"Devon Bree to see Mr. Perkins."

The thin woman behind the desk looked down at her from over her pointy, cat eye glasses, "Yes, have a seat."

She nodded and headed towards the waiting area. Almost as soon as she sat down, she heard a high-pitched cheer and footsteps running from the stairs that led to Mr. Perkins's office to almost directly behind her.

"OH YEAH! BACK IN BUSINESS, BABY! WHOOHOOOOOOO!"

Devon turned just in time to see a streak of orange disappear through the door at the end of the hall. Whoever that guy was he had obviously gotten very good news, and Devon couldn't help but feel a little jealous.

"Miss Bree, Mr. Perkins will see you now."

The mention of her name made her stomach jump. This was it. No turning back. The only comfort she had was to think about how great it would feel afterward if she did get the loan. With that thought, she ascended the stairs to Mr. Perkins's office.

* * *

"Let me get this straight Miss Bree…"

It was all Devon could do to keep eye contact with the giant of a man. He hated the plan, she knew it already.

"You want me to fund the making of a teleportation device that you aren't ONE-HUNDRED percent sure will actually work?"

She bit the inside of her jaw, "I know it's a gamble, but—"

Mr. Perkins interrupted her with a loud sigh, "Miss Bree…"

He shifted the apple around in his hand, examining the shiny peel. He had been messing with that apple the entire time she had been here, and it was starting to border on annoying. It seemed like he was paying more attention to that apple than to her.

"I appreciate your enthusiasm; I really do. I have been paying attention to your past heists, and they have been impressive for someone of your minimal income."

She glanced at the floor, then back up to him with a silent, dejected sigh.

"You've also branded yourself well, and that IS important," he finally sat the apple down and paid full focus on her, "but you have such little experience for a heist this big. To be honest, you need training."

She almost felt herself shrinking into the square stool she sat on as she deflated even more.

"I assure you, it's nothing personal, Miss Bree. It's impressive what you have done on your own, but many of the world's top villains were trained. You could gain a lot from training under a professional."

Devon chewed on her bottom lip, "Well…I HAD been sort of thinking about an internship, but…there just aren't that many experienced villains that want to take the time to MENTOR someone, especially someone who could be competition one day."

There were a few moments of silence as the large man rubbed his chin and considered this, "An internship…"

A small smile, if it could be called that, spread across his face as he seemed to get an idea. Devon wasn't sure how she felt about the expression.

"Actually, there IS someone who might be willing to take on an intern."

Devon raised her eyebrows, "Really?"

"Yes," he nodded. The 'yes' was more to himself than to Devon, "He could definitely use an intern.

"He's…a younger villain, also," Mr. Perkins reached into a drawer and pulled out a circular object and handed it to her, "about your age, but he has had plenty of experience."

She looked over the thick, die cut cardstock he had given her. On the front was a large, orange V within a circle, and when she flipped it over, she saw that it was a business card.

"Vector?" she read the name. There was no last name, no title, just "Vector" and some contact information.

"You might remember him from the pyramid heist two months ago."

Her eyes widened, "The guy who stole that PYRAMID? He's taking INTERNSHIPS?"

Mr. Perkins smirked, "I'll tell him to expect you at 8 a.m. tomorrow."

Devon ignored his pushiness and nodded. This guy was one of the greatest villains of all time; if she could get advice from him, it could really jump-start her career. It wasn't so great as teleporting Big Ben, but by training under the genius who stole the Great Pyramid of Giza, she might be able to pull off something even bigger.

"Yeah, that'd be GREAT!"

Mr. Perkins jotted a short note down on a piece of paper, "I'm very glad to have helped, Miss Bree."

She nodded as she made her way to the door, "Thanks! I really appreciate it!"

The smallest of smirks could be seen on Mr. Perkins' face if one were looking close enough. He chuckled as she left the room, "You'll be a lot of help, Miss Bree," he glanced at the picture on his desk of an orange clad boy smiling an innocent, gap-toothed smile.

He arched an eyebrow, "A lot of MUCH needed help."


	3. Chapter 3

Vector twitched in his sleep when his alarm went off and rolled onto his stomach as he slowly slipped into consciousness. Opening one eye, he groaned as he could just barely make out the blurry form of his clock that read seven a.m. It slowly came back to him that he had to get up early today.

He couldn't help feeling a bit agitated that his father had agreed on an eight o'clock interview when he hadn't even been taking internships in the first place. But he wasn't about to argue, not after yesterday.

He forced himself to crawl out of bed, still barely awake. After stretching with a loud yawn, he retrieved his glasses from the side table and went to the wall opposite the foot of his bed, pressing a small button. The wall opened to reveal a closet full of all orange clothes, most of which were tracksuits (all identical). He grabbed one, quickly changing out of the orange plaid pajama bottoms and t-shirt he normally slept in and changed into the warm-up suit.

Oh well. At least his father thought highly enough of him to think he could train another villain.

As this thought passed through his head, he heard the security system beep, alerting that there was someone approaching the front gate. He grabbed a remote from the table beside his bed, pressing a button that lowered a screen from the ceiling. On the screen was a man with a bowler hat and a briefcase who would have looked quite dignified were it not for the smarmy expression he wore.

Vector looked the man up and down, "You're not the intern. What do _you_ want?"

The man jumped at the sound of Vector's voice as he had no idea anyone knew he was even standing there yet. "Um…no, sir," he chuckled in an almost condescending tone, "Actually, I wondered if I could interest you in a few of the very latest—"

Vector rolled his eyes, "I don't _care_ what you're _selling_! Now, beat it! I'm expecting someone!"

"But _sir_, our products are top of the line. I can certainly see that you have a taste for only the state of the art."

Vector chuckled with a scoff, "I could pull things out of my _butt_ that are more technologically advanced than anything _you_ could be selling, fancy pants. Now _SCRAM_!"

He pressed another button on his remote and saw the look of terror that wiped over the man's face right before running for his life from the missiles off screen. Vector couldn't help but to grin. He might not have always gone out of his way to terrorize civilians, but whenever someone bothered him at the wrong time, he just couldn't help himself.

He tossed the remote carelessly aside and popped his knuckles as he headed for the kitchen. A heavy dose of sugar was a _must_ before he was going to do _anything_ this early in the morning.

* * *

Devon stared up at the gigantic, dome-like fortress from the sidewalk. Her new boss sure didn't have any intentions of being subtle, she knew that. Not that she minded; she wasn't much for subtlety either, at least when it came to appearances. If she had the kind of money this guy probably had, she would probably live somewhere just as outlandish, though maybe with a little less Macintosh. She noted that there were varying styles of the same V logo that was on the business card found more than once on the building, including a large one right in the center of the front gate. As she approached, she also noted the two cameras on either side of said gate, both clearly following her as she approached.

She saw the speaker to the left and was about to try and figure out how it worked, but before she could even get close enough to do that, the top of the dome opened up, aiming several projectile weapons in her direction. Her eyes widened in surprise, and only a second after that, a large screen was lowered just above her. A nerdy looking man who seemed to be munching on a rather large bowl of Cookie Crisps looked down his nose through huge square glasses at her.

He raised his eyebrows slightly, "Are _you_ the intern?"

"Yeah," she nodded as she examined him the same way she knew he was examining her.

Vector pursed his lips, "Hm…" He noted the slight scruffiness to her appearance. Her clothes were a bit worn looking, and her unevenly cut but mostly short hair seemed to be growing in almost every direction. Not to mention that random parts of it had been dyed black.

"Name?"

"Devon," she answered, putting her hands in the pockets of her jacket.

"Ya got my card?" he asked through a mouthful of cereal.

She pulled one of her hands back out of her pocket and held up the circular card. Vector smirked crookedly, and pressed a button that raised the screen again and opened the gate.

She was a bit surprised to find that Vector was already standing outside the front door on the other side waiting on her. He leaned against the doorframe as she came up the walkway. The guy was almost nerdier in person, though the boldness of his loud, orange tracksuit and his overall demeanor suggested that he either didn't know this about himself or didn't care.

She stopped in front of him, but he didn't move from his reclined position. Instead, he gave her a sarcastic smile.

"First rule of villainy, young Padawan, _never_ reveal your real name."

Devon crinkled her nose at the sudden criticism, "How do you know that's my real name?"

"Googled you," he finally stood up straight and Devon was able to see that he was probably not even two inches taller than her own five foot five. He turned to lead her into the fortress.

"You should expect that from an employer, you know," he continued, "Besides, what kind of villain name would _Devon_ be?"

She scowled at him behind his back, but almost forgot the comment when she saw the interior of his house. Everything was much neater than she preferred things, but that didn't make the giant tank with a great white shark in it any less impressive. She broke out of her state of awe when he kept going.

"What _is_ you're villain name?" he asked.

She thought about asking if that was a trick question, but she decided to just risk it.

"D."

He halted on the stairs they were both ascending and turned to her with a furrowed brow.

"D?"

She nodded.

He seemed to be examining the name in his head for a few seconds before nodding slowly, "Simple, easy to remember…though you've got a lot of work to do to be able to own such a minimalistic name."

They finally reached the top of the stairs which stopped at the top of the circular shark tank. The floor was the same transparent glass that the sides were, and on it sat a long, semicircular couch. Suspended from the ceiling in front of the couch was a wraparound, panoramic screen, which displayed several meters, a few views from security cameras, and a window that looked to be a paused game of Bioshock.

Vector motioned to the long, orange couch, "Why don't you step into my office?"


	4. Chapter 4

Devon paused for a moment, pressing her lips together before she walked towards the living room area.

"Have a seat; make yourself at home." Vector said this with a smugness that said 'yes, I know that you're thoroughly impressed'.

She sat down on a spot in the center of the orange, pleather couch, placing her hands on her knees awkwardly as he flopped down next to her. She couldn't help but think that this was a strange setup for a job interview, but she tried to ignore the over-casualness of it.

"_So_…_you're_ looking to be a villain," he began. He emphasized his syllables in a way that made him sound like a campy action hero.

"Well you've definitely come to the right guy. It takes more brains than brawn to be a _top villain_, and brains is something I've got _plenty_ of."

Vector rested his arms over the back of the couch, "So I've seen that you've attained at least _some_ sort of name for yourself. Got any decent heists under your belt?"

Devon shrugged, "I've stolen artwork mostly at this point, the best of which was a pretty big Pollock I snatched from the Museum of Modern Art. I've got very limited accessible technology at this point, so that's about all I've been capable of. Just relatively small things."

Vector noticed as she talked that her teeth were abnormally sharp. It was a subtle difference from normal teeth, but up close, it was noticeable. He remembered something he had run across on his research of her that he had dismissed before, but now he was curious.

Vector smirked, "I recall in my research a mention of you delving into a bit of DNA modification. Care to elaborate on that?"

He could see the amusement in her own face as she smirked back, "That's classified, I'm afraid. Gotta leave a little mystery, right?"

He arched an eyebrow and nodded slowly, "Alright, I can respect that. But be warned that I _will_ have that information out of you sooner or later."

She shrugged again, "Good luck…"

"Challenge accepted!" Vector declared leaning toward her slightly.

"Now…let's talk about housing arrangements –"

Devon gave a start, "Wait. Housing arrangements?"

"Being an intern for _me_ is a full time gig," he said, slouching back against the couch again, "you're gonna need to be available 24/7. You'll get free time, of course, but the schedule is _completely unpredictable_. Housing is just a matter of convenience."

"Yeah, one problem with that," Devon interrupted, "I kind of have a pet at home that needs caring for. And I definitely can't leave her home too long alone. She gets bored and tears up the furniture."

"_Please_, pets are nothing in a house this technologically advanced. I'm sure you've noticed Phish, here," he tapped a foot on the transparent floor, motioning to the gigantic shark swimming by beneath them, "if this house can handle a shark, I'm sure it can handle whatever animal you've got.

"What kind of pet do you have? _You_ seem like a dog person; it's a dog, isn't it?"

Devon chuckled, "You could say that."

* * *

The process of moving Devon's stuff from her place to Vector's went much faster than she had thought it would. A lot of it had to do with the specially designed suitcases Vector lent to her that could somehow temporarily flatten the clothes down to almost paper thin sheets in order to fit more into one case. Of course, like everything else Vector owned, these cases were bright orange and branded with a white V on both sides.

"Alright," Devon said, shoving one of the suitcases into Vector's arms, "where's my room at?"

Vector pursed his lips in annoyance, "Hmhm…the room that I am _lending_ to you is just down the hallway beside the living room—_what is THAT_?"

Devon followed Vector's wide eyes to the lumbering fur-ball that waddled along next to her at her feet.

"Oh, that's Petunia."

Vector looked from "Petunia" to Devon and back to Petunia waiting on her to explain further, "But what _is_ it?"

"She's a wolverine. I stole her on a middle school trip to the zoo when she was a baby."

"I thought you said you had a dog!" He said this in a much higher pitch than he intended.

"Did I?"

The round, fluffy creature sniffed around her new surroundings, her nose leading her to Vector's orange striped, zip-up sneakers.

Vector visibly stiffened but tried to play cool, "Eheheh…good girl…"

When Vector cautiously reached out his hand to pet her, she sniffed it then gave it a disgustingly wet lick.

"Eeyuck!" Vector jerked his hand back, shaking saliva off in viscous globs.

Petunia sat back on her haunches, tongue hanging from the side of her mouth with a wide grin. Her expression, her loud, nasally breathing, and her husky build made her resemble a fat pug more than a wolverine.

"She usually stays out of the way well enough. Just don't scare or irritate her; she gets cranky. If she causes any problems, let me know, and I'll take care of it. She listens to me…usually."

"Uh…alright," Vector replied weakly, wiping the excess drool from his hand onto his pants.

Vector led Devon down the hallway that led to where she would be staying. She couldn't help but notice how stark and empty the walls were. It wasn't the coziest place to live, that was for sure.

"First, we'll need to register your hand print so that you'll have free access to the room," Vector explained as he placed his hand in the hand-shaped indention on the interface next to the door.

"Access granted," a female computer voice declared, "Welcome, Vector."

The door slid open to reveal a fairly large, empty room.

"Thank you, Starla," Vector replied.

Devon suppressed a snicker at the nickname.

"Register new entry account," Vector commanded.

"Registering new entry account," the voice repeated, "enter name."

Vector motioned for Devon to comply.

"Devon," she spoke towards the panel, not sure if there was a specific place she was a mike somewhere she was supposed to be speaking into.

"Hello, Devon. Place hand in scanner."

She paused for a moment, rubbing her fingers against her palm before cautiously placing her hand on the scanner.

"It may sting a bit," Vector warned, but Devon had no time to react to this before hissing at the burning sensation in her palm.

"Hand print accepted."

"Gee, thanks for the warning," Devon said, shaking the tingling sensations out of her hand.

"Don't worry, it only burns the first time."

Devon thought to reply with "that's what she said", but decided against it.

"Now," Vector began as he led her into the room, "this room may _look_ empty, but all of your essentials are here."

He snapped his fingers, and the overhead, studio style lights turned on and several hidden buttons and panels on the walls glowed orange. Vector pushed one of the buttons and a compartment opened to bring out a king sized bed, already laid out with a comforter, sheets and pillows.

"That one's the closet, and the one over there opens to a bathroom," he motioned to both consecutively.

"Oh, and I'm sure you've noticed the white and orange color scheme of the fortress. I'll ask that you keep to that. The closest value of orange you can get to two percent cyan, sixty three percent magenta, one hundred percent yellow, and zero percent black would be preferable. All else should be kept out of sight."

Devon gave a look of annoyance behind his back which quickly left when he turned back to her.

"_So!_ Once you're all moved in here, _you_ can begin training with the _master_," he pointed at himself with his thumbs enthusiastically.

"Great!" she rolled her eyes as he left, hoping she hadn't made a mistake by agreeing to this. It really shouldn't have surprised her that a guy who was just recently named the world's top villain was so pretentious.

It didn't matter, though. Someone as skilled as he had to be was bound to have some useful information to offer. She just hoped it wouldn't be a _huge_ annoyance to get it.


	5. Chapter 5

Devon didn't take the time to unpack anything, and she doubted she ever would. This place would only be temporary after all, and once this internship was over, she'd be back in her old apartment or, with any luck, somewhere a bit nicer. Maybe even a fortress of her own.

So, after a bit of curious poking around, she finally decided it was time to find out just what she would be learning from Vector. She made her way back down the hallway, watching Phish swimming dauntingly beneath her in the same direction she was headed. They both liked vicious animals; at least they had that much in common.

She spotted the top of Vector's head from over the long, wraparound couch; he had apparently gone back to his video game. She also happened to glance over at the coffee table to see a Nintendo Wii sitting atop it, the tiny light at the top suggesting that it was turned on.

"How are you playing Bioshock on a Wii?"

She noticed Vector jump slightly at the sound of her voice, and he jerked his head in her direction with a look of surprise, then irritation at being surprised as she entered the living room. It was obvious that he wasn't used to having other people roaming about the fortress.

"Easy!" he replied as he continued fighting off the enemy splicers he had been dealing with, "it only takes a bit of simple reprogramming. This thing can play anything that's in a disk format," he quickly paused the game, saved it, and turned off the console.

"I suppose we should get started then," he said, standing and popping his back loudly, "There's a lot I need to get done for the next gig, and we don't have much time to do it."

Devon followed behind him as he headed toward what looked like an empty wall, "What _is_ the "next gig", if you don't mind my asking?"

"Just some unfinished business," he pressed a few buttons on one of the glowing interfaces on the wall, which opened what seemed to be a cylindrical elevator, "Some like to bide their time, but trust me, the quicker the counterattack, the better. Especially when you're capable of working as quickly and efficiently as I am."

"Hero problems?"

Vector chuckled, "Heroes are easy to deal with," he stepped into the elevator, "the real challenge is other villains trying to steal your title."

Their conversation was cut off by the sound of nasally, heavy breathing and claws against the glassy floor as Petunia came bounding down the hallway to sit at Devon's feet.

"Should she be coming with us?" she asked.

Vector shrugged, glancing at the fat, furball with slight unease, "I…don't suppose there's anything she could get into."

He pressed a series of buttons, and the door closed. The elevator began to descend into a transparent tube surrounded by the water in the shark tank. The tank was much bigger than Devon had first perceived. MUCH bigger. It must have gone down at least a mile, though they were traveling extremely fast, so the length of time it took to get to the bottom wasn't really an indicator.

"This tank is made of a reinforced alloy of my _own_ invention," Vector boasted, "It can withstand millions of tons of pressure. It may look like glass, but it's actually more of a transparent metal."

"Hm…" Devon nodded, "interesting…" And it really was interesting, but she honestly didn't have anything else to say about the matter.

For a few moments, there was silence aside from the sound of the descending elevator and Petunia's loud panting. Finally, however, the elevator settled into the large laboratory below, and the door opened once more.

As expected, it was just as white and orange here as it was in the rest of the fortress. There were several seats made of the same orange pleather as the couch, most of which were shaped like Vs. There were also several, different sized cases surrounding the enormous space, some transparent and some opaque, that had everything from weapons to live anglerfish. She was slowly starting to notice Vector's affinity for ocean life.

"Welcome to the most technologically advanced lab in the entire world," he stepped into the room and the lights turned on automatically, "This is where all the magic happens. Some of the world's most advanced machinery—the MAJORITY of it, actually—was made right in this room."

"Hm…" Devon nodded, "…impressive…"

"_Exactly_. Now, I wouldn't want to overwhelm you with details the first day on the job, so instead of showing you everything at once, we'll start small."

He pressed a button on a controller Devon hadn't noticed he had before and one of the cases was lifted and set upon a small table that rose from the floor.

"You'll need these," Vector handed her a pair of oversized, orange goggles after putting on a pair of his own along with a pair of rubbery, orange gloves.

"Normally I prefer working with machinery," he tapped a button on the side of the capsule and it opened to reveal something round and yellow, "but I like to dabble a bit in biology myself, something _you're _apparently somewhat familiar with."

Devon made no remark to this.

"So," he continued, "I'll assume you aren't squeamish."

He pressed yet another button on the remote he held and a tray of surgical tools plus an electronic device that was clearly an invention of his was lowered from the ceiling.

"Forceps, surgical scissors, bone cutters, scalpel, control chip," he pointed to each of the instruments as he named them off, "Think you can remember that?"

"Yes," she replied shortly.

He reached into the capsule and pulled out a small yellow creature with a single, closed eye. The little creature seemed to be napping quite peacefully, clearly unaware of its situation.

"Lucky for us, this little guy doesn't have any bones, so you don't need to worry about the bone cutters at the moment."

"What IS it?"

"From what I could gather, it's made up of some kind of mutated DNA, fatty acids, and approximately two and a half cups of bananas…give or take a bit."

"Oh…"

"I was lucky to find him. With some mind alteration, he'll be the PERFECT tool for my plan."

"And…what IS that plan?"

"Ah-ah! Patience, Dev, patience. It's a surprise."

She sighed.

"Now…scalpel," Vector held his hand out for her to hand the tool to him.

She handed him the scalpel begrudgingly. Well...at least she was getting paid for this…


	6. Chapter 6

The entire rest of the evening she had spent doing Vector's bidding. Sure witnessing the surgery was…educational and interesting. But feeding his shark chum? Ordering live fish off eBay? Going out to the store for _snacks?_ This wasn't villain work; these were CHORES.

But…it WAS only the first day of work, not even the first FULL day. Surely it would get better.

Devon parked her car next to Vector's, which was an overly embellished, futuristic sports car, white with orange flames and a grinning shark face painted on the hood. Yeah, she had to admit, it was cool.

She popped the trunk and was about to get the groceries out (most of which was junk food, as per Vector's request) when a large, robot appendage emerged from the wall, nearly scaring Devon half to death, and retreated back into the wall with the bags of food.

"Ok, then…" she paused before heading to the door that led to the kitchen inside.

As she came up the stairs into the living room area, she saw Vector half sitting and half lying in the middle of the couch clothed in a bright orange t-shirt with a little cartoon squid on it and orange plaid pajama pants.

He did a double take when he spotted Devon coming up the stairs, "Oh, hey, Dev! Why don'cha come on over and take a load off?" he waved the bowl of popcorn he had toward her, "I'll share my popcorn with ya."

She stared at him for a moment. This was really the guy who stole the pyramid? A guy who had a fish obsession, ate nothing but junk food, and looked like Bill Gates's awkward cousin was really the person who had pulled off one of the biggest heists of the century?

"Actually," she said, pulling a fake grin, "it's been kind of a long day. Think I'm gonna get to bed."

"Oh…"

She thought she could sense the tiniest hint of disappointment in his voice.

"Alright. Guess I'll see ya in the morning, then."

"Yeah…" she turned to go down the hallway, "see ya."

When she got to the door of her room, she hesitantly held a hand up and pressed it against the palm scanner. Fortunately, it did not burn like it had the first time as it scanned her handprint.

"Access granted. Welcome, Devon."

"Yeah, thanks," she mumbled before entering the room.

She washed up and changed quickly, then got to bed; she was ready for this strange day to be over. Though, she honestly didn't know what difference it would make, as tomorrow would most likely be just as weird. However, she had to admit, his place was WAY nicer than her apartment. Especially this bed. The spring mattress she slept on at home was like sleeping on rocks compared to how soft this bed was.

Besides, tomorrow would be more productive. This guy WAS one of the world's top villains. He had to have some kind of nifty secrets he could let her in on. Just be patient, she told herself. It would all pay off in the end.

* * *

"I am SERIOUS, Gru! You haven't achieved a decent heist in over a month now!"

Gru tried to keep the armful of toys he had picked up from spilling back onto the floor he had just cleared, "Don't worry about it, Dr. Nefario; I've got everything under control! Besides, if you count the moon, its only been…what? A couple of weeks?"

Nefario stared at him vacantly, the dark circles of his goggle lenses blank of emotion, "I don't."

Gru's eyebrows furrowed nervously, "Well…I've…got…several relatively strong ideas in mind."

"Oh really?" Nefario's raised and eyebrow of his own, "Well, let's hear them, then!"

The corners of Gru's mouth drooped, "Ah, we-, i— I mean there's the one with…uh…and that other that…no…no, we never got enough popsicle sticks for that…BUT THERE'S THE—…oh…no…we didn't figure out a way to clone naked mole rats…"

"Unicorns! I love them! Unicorns! I love them! Uni-uni-unicooooooooorns…I looo-ooove them!"

Gru turned to his youngest daughter with a gentle, yet serious expression, "Agnes? Could you be a TINY bit more quiet, please? We are trying to discuss something."

"Oh!" she whispered in a tiny voice, "ok." She continued singing the song quietly.

"Gru! You have GOT to start paying more attention to your JOB! I know how you feel about the girls, but…you're going to have to put more effort into your career!"

"I KNOW that!" he sighed and headed into the kitchen, "But the girls are all at a very dependent age. I cannot just leave them fending for themselves."

Nefario followed him into the next room, as well as Agnes, who was singing her unicorn song just a bit louder than a whisper now.

"MY BA-NA-NA!" when Gru walked into the kitchen he had walked right into the middle of several minions fighting over a single banana.

"My ba-na-na!"

"MY ba-na-na!"

"MYYYYY BA-NA-NAAAAAAA!"

"EXCUSE me!" the minions immediately stopped their quarreling at Gru's enraged voice, "What have I told you about fighting over the bananas? Besides they are made of the same thing you are made of, so congratulations on being cannibals!"

There was a gasp from Kevin, the minion now holding the banana, and the one next to him, Mark, blew a raspberry and shuffled out of the kitchen, the other's aside from Kevin, following him.

Kevin looked down at the banana he held with a distressed expression, "…ba-na-na?"

"Edith!" Gru yelled as he noticed her about to climb onto the counter, "Don't DO that! You just got back from getting stitches at the doctor's office. Now, you go sit at the table, and I'll make breakfast in just a minute. Margo?"

After a few seconds, Margo appeared from around the corner, the only one of her sisters already dressed, "Morning, Mr. Gru! You needed something?"

Gru smiled. At least one of his daughters wasn't such a handful, "Would you please set the table for breakfast? I need to discuss something with Dr. Nefario."

"Sure!"

By this time, Agnes was singing her unicorn song just as loud as she had been before, "Shh," Margo warned her gently, "quiet, Agnes."

Gru turned back to Nefario, "See? All taken care of."

Nefario's eyes narrowed behind his goggles, "You mean, like you "took care" of Vector?" he reached into has coat and pulled out a copy of that day's edition of the Rascal Chronicles and handed it to Gru, who took only a quick look to see a picture of Vector.

His expression immediately turned to concern, and after reading the first paragraph, he glared and wadded the paper in his hand, "Vector's back? How did he get off the moon?"

Agnes's singing was starting to grow louder again.

"Apparently," Nefario snatched the paper back, "he's got a few family connections."

He pointed to a line in the article, and Gru read it aloud, "'After being stranded on the moon for almost ninety six hours, Vector a.k.a. Victor Perkins was retrieved by a—" he gasped, "Victor PERKINS? That little SQUID-FOR-BRAINS!"

"Listen…" Nefario's voice sounded exasperated now, "YOU are a SUPERVILLAIN! One of the world's BEST supervillains! I don't care if you have the girls around, but…let the minions watch them, take them to a daycare, find an…EVIL BABYSITTER, do SOMETHING that will allow you more time for work!"

"I'm WORKING on it, ALRIGHT?"

That's when Gru heard Margo gasp, "Edith! MR. GRU!"

Gru turned to see Edith standing on a pile of books in a chair reaching for a box of poptarts inconveniently located next to a small box of nitroglycerine.

"No! EDITH!"

Gru leapt for her just in time. He was able to grab her and hold her to his chest just as the small explosion went off. Once the smoke cleared, Gru pulled her away to examine her for any injuries.

"Are you ALRIGHT, Edith? Did you get burned?" he grabbed her hand to look at her arm, "Here, let me see!"

"I'm alright, Mr. Gru. I'm fine! Really!" she pulled her faintly singed hand away from him and squirmed her way back to the floor.

"UNICORNS, I LOVE THEM! UNICORNS, I LOVE THEEEEEEEEM!"

"AGNES! Would you PLEASE be quiet! I can't even THINK straight!"

Agnes seemed startled, and she looked up at him with big, watery eyes, her lip quivering.

Gru's expression softened immediately, "Agnes, I'm…" he kneeled down and put a hand to her round cheek, "I'm sorry, Agnes," he pulled her into a hug, "I'm just very stressed right now, kitten, and I need to be able to hear myself think."

Nefario's expression softened only a bit, and he sighed, "Alright, Gru…I'll give you a little more time. But you're going to HAVE to make some changes, because if you don't continue the heists, Vector will."

Gru lifted Agnes to rest on his shoulder and nodded, "Alright. I'll figure something out."

He turned to Margo and Edith, sitting Agnes into her chair at the table, "Now! How about chocolate pudding crepes for breakfast?"

Margo smiled and Edith and Agnes cheered.

No matter how much pressure he was put under as a top villain, Gru knew one thing. He was NEVER letting go of his kittens again.


	7. Chapter 7

"Deeeeev!"

Devon twitched in her sleep. Whatever that voice was, she wanted it to stop.

"Oh, Devy-Weeeeeevyyyyyy!"

She groaned loudly and rolled over.

"Cooome on Dev. Waky waky, eggs and bacy."

She felt something hard prodding her in the ribs, and she finally opened her eyes, a glare directed at whoever was disturbing her.

"Aaaagh!" Devon jumped when she was met with Vector's oversized head on a floating screen much too close to her. A white arm protruded from the bottom of it, which hovered even closer.

"Ah! You're awake!" he grinned, "Ya know, you're so cute when you're asleep."

"You have a CAMERA in my ROOM?"

"Noooo…the camera floated _into_ you're room. I _did_ knock; you didn't answer."

She sat up, scratching her head. Her hair was, if possible, even messier than usual, and she had dark circles under her eyes.

"Couldn't you have just asked me to set an alarm?"

"Alarms are old school. Here on Team _Vector_, we're _new_ school," he made a hipster-ish hand gesture when he said 'Team Vector'.

"Whatever…just let me get dressed, and I'll be out there in a minute."

"Sure. Oh! Do you want a chocolate or strawberry pop-tart?"

She rubbed her temples, "Uh…chocolate."

"Excellent choice!" his screen retreated back towards the open door, "Meet me in the kitchen when you're dressed."

She sighed. This place was just getting better and better…

She got ready within about five minutes then came down the hall and down the stairs to the kitchen.

"Hey! Catch!" Devon turned just in time to see a pop-tart soaring toward her head, and she barely had time to reach up and catch it.

"Hm…thanks…" she ignored the unceremonious lob to the head and took a bite out of her pop-tart, sitting down on one of the orange stools at the counter.

Petunia, ever alert when there was food around, sat at Devon's feet, pleading with big eyes. Devon sighed.

"Alright…" she tossed a small corner of her pop-tart to her, which she snapped up without so much as taking the time to taste it.

"Soooo…" Vector made a show of sliding her a tall glass of chocolate milk, then leaning back on his elbows next to where she sat, taking a bite of his own pop-tart, "the patient should be ready before too much longer," he said through a mouthful, "the microchip is taking effect quite nicely, if I say so myself."

"Yeaaaah…so…what, exactly, does that chip do?"

"It's a temporary mind altering device. Once in the brain, it links to the cerebral cortex and controls the host's _every_ conscious decision according to how the chip is programmed," he took a drink of his own chocolate milk, "It takes some time for that link to be perfected, though. After a certain amount of time, the chip dissolves, and the subject is back to normal."

"Any particular _reason_ we put it into a walking banana?"

"Hmhmhmm, easy there, tiger," her eyes widened, then went back to their original, drowsy state as he ruffled her wild hair, "you wouldn't want me to give it all away at once, now, would you?"

Devon was shaken out of her lethargy when a small hole opened up next to her on the counter, and something shot out of it. The object was propelled up into the air then came back down to land on top of the now closed hole it had been ejected from. It was a newspaper, today's copy of the Rascal Chronicles.

"Hey! Just in time!" Vector finished off the last of his pop-tart and brushed his fingers together, knocking off crumbs, "Why don'cha take a look and see if we got any newbie competition?"

She sighed as he started to leave, "…alright…" she removed the rubber band and opened to the front page.

Her eyes went wide again. She glanced back at Vector, who was about to ascend the stairs, before reading the first couple paragraphs of the article placed right beneath a large, rather unflattering picture of him.

"Uuuuh…Vector?" she called back to him, still staring at the article and the image of him.

"Find any fresh meat, Dev?" he called back.

"Not exactly…" she turned to him, "there's an article about _you._"

He almost spat out the chocolate milk he had been about to swallow, "WHAT?"

"'Direction and Magnitude: the Wrong Direction Caused by Unwanted Magni'—hey!" he snatched the paper from her; apparently he ran much faster than she had thought possible for him.

She tried to hold back a chuckle as he read the article frantically, "You were _stuck_ on the _moon?_"

Vector was frozen for a moment as he took in the rather embarrassing information that was now made public for the entire villain population to see. As he kept reading, his expression became more and more enraged, his face turning a nasty shade of red, and Devon _thought_ she could see his glasses fogging a bit. Finally, without change of expression, he held his hand over the counter, where another hole opened up, which he dropped the wadded paper into to burn in the unseen incinerator that glowed from the opening.

"You _stole_ the moon from _Gru?_ THE _GRU_?"

Vector turned his glare to his new lackey, "If he hadn't _tricked_ me and taken MY SHRINK RAY, I wouldn't have _had_ to!"

Devon scoffed, "Yeah…except according to that article, _you_ stole it from _him_ first…"

Vector was becoming even more steamed, "Well…he…stole it from some military base in Vietnam, so it's not like it was actually HIS, either!"

Devon tried to hide her smirk.

Vector finally sighed, attempting to calm himself, "Alright…we're doing this thing TODAY! Just a few more tests on the patient and we should be ready," he turned to Devon, who instantly straightened up and made a coughing sound, "Come on, Dev!"

She shook her head in exasperation, gulping down the rest of her chocolate milk, then following him.

They descended the elevator again; this time Vector seemed extra fidgety and much much _less_ talkative. The silence was starting to bother Devon.

"So…you've got it in for _Gru_?"

Vector still seemed fairly peeved, "_He_ had it in for me _first!_ OK? _All_ I did was show him a little bit about the piranha gun when I saw him at the bank, then after he comes back out from talking to my dad…HE FREEZES MY HEAD! I mean, what's THAT all about, _huh?_"

Devon's jaw dropped a bit, "I…wait, wait ,wait! _Dad?_ You talking about Mr. _Perkins?_"

"Yeah, he's my dad," Vector confirmed without hesitation, then his demeanor became a bit more unsure, "W-w…he didn't…_tell_ you that?"

She shook her head, "No."

Vector looked down to the transparent floor and went silent again. This time however, he looked much more sad than angry.

As soon as the elevator had reached the lab and the doors had opened, Vector wasted no time in pressing the button on his remote to retrieve the capsule with the "patient" inside. He dashed to the table, quickly opening the pod and revealing the sleeping creature.

"He's in a state very similar to hibernation," Vector explained quickly, as Devon came to join him, "But as soon as I activate the chip, it will send pulses to the brain and reanimate him."

He lifted a separate controller from the one for the functions of the fortress, his finger hovering over a button, "Cross your fingers, Dev…"

He pressed the button, but nothing seemed to happen.

Vector furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "Wha—" he pressed the button again. Still nothing. "This _stupid—_" he began pressing it over and over, "_why—won't—you—WORK?_"

Out of nowhere, the yellow creature shot out of the capsule at least ten feet into the air.

"!" it laughed insanely in a high pitched cackle that reminded Devon of someone who had inhaled helium.

The creature seemed to bounce off the walls, knocking down glass tubes and machinery, all of which looked to be very expensive.

"_Hey!_" Vector shouted at the creature, "What are you _doing?_ _QUIT IT!_" He began pressing any button he could to calm it down, but nothing seemed to work.

It shattered a rather large glass tank, sending glass shards across the lab, and Devon quickly grabbed a metal tray lying nearby to shield herself, "What's _wrong_ with it?"

"I don't _know!_" Vector answered, "I calibrated the wave lengths to be compatible! It should be _working_!"

Devon flinched away when it ran close to her, and began running into the operation table repeatedly. Finally, she raised the metal tray she had been using as a shield and gave him a swift whack over the head with it. It instantly stopped, motionless for a moment, before collapsing to the ground.

Vector stared wide eyed for a moment, "I-wh—_why_ did you _DO that?_"

"_Wh—_" Devon stammered back in confusion, "He was wreckingyour _lab! _What was I _supposed_ to do?"

"_Nothing!_" Vector placed his fists on his hips, "You might've _killed _it! He's the only one I've _got!_"

She sighed, "Well…_sorry_!"

The creature finally started to stir, and its single eye opened. It sat up, seemingly fine other than the fact that it seemed to spasm a lot.

Vector glared, "Oh, _look_, now you gave it a nervous twitch!"

"_Hey!_ I _said_ I was _sorry!_"

Vector sighed in frustration, "It'll have to do…_You!_" he turned to the yellow creature, "What's your name?"

"Bobert!" it exclaimed excitedly with a twitch.

"Bobert…" Vector repeated.

"I think he might be trying to say Robert," Devon suggested.

Vector shrugged, "Whatever…Alright, what's you're mission?"

"Hurls!"

Vector seemed confused for a moment, "_Hurls_? What is—oh-oh! Right! Get them and bring them out to me!"

"Da!"

"Let's go, Dev! _You're _about to be the _only_ other person who's ridden in my _awesome_ new sports car!"

"Joy…" she mumbled with a roll of her eyes.

As they were about to enter the elevator, Robert gasped and immediately ran for one of the remaining glass tubes, one with a large, ugly fish.

"Ooooo! _Squish_!"

"_Hey_! Get _back_ here!" Vector ran to retrieve him, grabbing his arm and trying to drag him back to the elevator.

"Nah! _Nah! NAH!_ _SQUISH!_"

"NO! That's MY 'squish'!" Vector grabbed him around the waist, assuming it had one, and pulled harder, but the little guy wouldn't budge. However, he finally got a glance at the open elevator and spotted Phish circling in the large tank outside.

"OOOOOOOoooooohhh!" Robert slipped out of Vector's grip, causing him to fall on his face, and was inside the elevator in no time, his face pressed as close against the tank as possible, "WAMBO squish!"

Vector sighed heavily, straightening his glasses and dusting off his warm up suit before getting into the elevator and pressing the button to go up.

There were a very few seconds of silence as Robert watched Phish, and Devon glanced over at Vector, "Why do I get the feeling that the 'squish' thing was your doing?"

Vector scoffed, "Come on! I can't put a little bit of myself into my creations?"

She shrugged, "Weeell, if you think it'll work…"

"It will."

"So, when am I going to find out what we're stealing from Gru?"

He chuckled, "You're curiosity is _adorable_, Devon…You'll find out soon enough; don't you worry."

Once they had reached the top, they had more trouble getting Robert away from Phish's tank. Whatever Vector's plan was, Devon swore it wouldn't work. Not judging by how things were going so far. But she had to admit, it would definitely be fun to watch.


	8. Chapter 8

Devon was left to keep Robert under control as Vector drove, and it was no easy task. Constantly he was either trying to grab the steering wheel or stick his head out the window when he saw something of interest. She was surprised he hadn't either made them wreck or fallen out of the car before they got to their destination.

Vector pressed a button as they were getting closer, and Devon felt small static tingles wherever her skin made contact with the car.

"Stealth mode," Vector explained, "This function reconfigures the vehicle's outer appearance, rendering it almost completely invisible."

As they rounded a corner of the neighborhood they were now in, Gru's house could be seen just down the road. Vector didn't have to point it out for Devon to know which one it was as it stood out from the other houses almost as much as Vector's fortress did. It was a more classic take on the villainous lair, tall and looming, the dark color contrasting greatly with the bright houses around it.

"Hmph!" Vector looked down his nose at the structure, "How original…"

"Ooo," Robert attached himself to the window, "Joonga de _Gru_! Hurls! _Huuuurls!_"

Vector chuckled at the excited creature, "Yeah! You know what's in there, don't ya?" he pressed another button, that lifted the door open, "Go get it!" and Robert scurried out before he had even finished his sentence.

They watched him run for the door of the sinister house and ring the doorbell. It wasn't long before the door was answered by two creatures that looked almost exactly like Robert.

"Oooh…" Devon said in realization, "so those are like…Gru's henchmen?"

"Minions," Vector confirmed, "apparently, he has thousands of them; _tens_ of thousands, probably."

The other minions seemed to welcome Robert with open arms, and soon, he was inside safely.

"And now," Vector folded his hands behind his head and closed his eyes, "we wait for my _brilliant _plan to unfold."

* * *

Robert had been welcomed back by his fellow minions as if he had just been on a long trip, which, technically, was exactly the case. The small group of minions chattered happily, interested in what kinds of adventures he had been on while he was gone, asking him questions as if he had simply been on vacation for a while.

Gru rounded the corner that went into the front hallway, a large stack and several rolled up sheets of drafting paper piled in his arms.

"_Boss, boss!_" one of them called, waving his arms in the air at Gru.

"Huh?" he seemed a bit distant, "What? What is it, Mark?"

"Ponga du Bobert!"

"Oh. Yes, good to see you back, Robert," he made his way to the living room as he spoke, trying to balance the papers in his arms, "Sorry about the anti-gravity serum…thing. Guess it does wear off after all."

As Gru went into the next room, Margo, Edith, and Agnes trotted along behind him. Robert smirked, "Eeh, eeh!"

The girls turned to the three minions, and Agnes giggled, running to them.

"Will you play a game with us?"

Robert held back a snicker, "Da!" The other two minions chimed in with their agreement.

Margo and Edith came in behind their sister, "Well…what game should we play?" Margo asked.

"Foopo?" one suggested, making a motion as if throwing a football.

"Nah, nah…" Robert flicked his wrist dismissively.

"Pony! Pony!" the other yelled excitedly and began galloping around as if he were riding a horse.

"Nah, nah, _nah!_" he disagreed, "Doh peak!"

"Hide and go seak?" Agnes asked.

"Dah!"

"Alright, well, who's it?"

Robert raised his hand, "Me! Me!"

"O.k. then," Edith ran to the bookshelf in the hallway, "this will be base? Ready?"

Robert put his head in his arms against the shelf and started counting.

"Let's go!" Edith whispered to her sisters, "I've got the perfect hiding place!"

After both girls and minions were out of sight, Robert looked up to make sure the coast was clear. He chuckled with a sneer, "Abeedo, hurls!"

* * *

The warmth of the sun coming through the windshield of Vector's car was starting to make Devon sleepy. She rested her head on one hand propped against the door, trying and failing to hold back a yawn.

"Mmhmhm! Tired already?" Vector chuckled, "Not to worry; you'll build up stamina in time."

She ignored the condescension in his comment, as that had quickly become routine, and looked at him with drowsy, half-lidded eyes, "When exactly am I going to know why we're _here_?"

"So impatient! Alright, perhaps it's time for a pop quiz," he propped his feet on top of the steering wheel and cracked his knuckles before folding his hands behind his head, "What do you think Gru could have that I would have a reason to take?"

Devon shrugged, "Could be anything…a weapon? Or something he's stolen."

"Good guesses, but there are other ways of getting ahead of your enemies. Every villain has a weakness, or something they would do anything to get back if taken from them. _And_ it just so happens I've discovered Gru's.

"For your efforts, however, I'll give you a C+."

"C+?"

Vector smirked, "C+…would have been just a C, but I took the fact that you're tired into account."

She sighed and rolled her eyes, but Vector shushed her before she was even able to comment further. Robert had come back out the door with a large sack over his shoulder which seemed to be thrashing about violently.

Vector gave a nasally but otherwise sinister cackle, "_Perfect._"

He pressed the button to open the door again to let Robert toss the bag into the back. As Robert was about to try to get in as well, Vector reached over Devon to the glove box and took out a large, red apple.

"Hey, _Robert_, look what _I've_ got!" he waved the fruit out the window as Robert's eye grew big.

The minion gasped, "_Bapple!"_ he jumped up as high as he could to reach it, but he was just too short.

"Well, go _get it!_"

Vector threw it, and Robert dashed back toward Gru's house in pursuit. Quickly, he closed the doors of the car and took off.

"Couldn't you have used him again?" Devon asked.

"One of the top rules of villainy, Dev, _never_ use the same plan twice."

The bag in the back seat thrashed again, and Devon brought her attention back to it. Whatever it was that was inside there was more than one of them, and they were all making muffled sounds of distress. And the more she listened, the more she could tell that the things they were yelling were English words.

Devon's face screwed up in confusion, "Vector, are those…"

Vector's smirk was the most malicious she had seen yet, "The things Gru cares about the most in the world. His _precious little GIRLS!_"


	9. Chapter 9

Devon arched an eyebrow, "_Girls?_"

Vector pursed his lips in a crooked smirk, "Wouldn't have guessed, would you? And you might _think_ they're innocent little _angels_, but they're just as much in on Gru's plans as he is," his voice lowered to a hiss, "_Don't _turn your back on them."

The bag in the back seat thrashed violently again, and one of the voices inside yelped, "Mr. _Gru!_"

"Put a sock in it, _kid!_" Vector glared, "_Daddy's_ not anywhere near to save you!"

"_Vector?_" this voice was distinctly different from the first. This girl was obviously older.

"Didn't think I'd be back so _soon_, _did_ _ya?_"

A third voice scoffed, "Gru will just come and kick your _butt _again. It's not like you stand a chance, anyway."

Vector snickered, "You think I haven't updated my security system since last time? Isn't that just _darling?_ That old has-been won't be getting through my state of the art defenses _this_ time."

"_Yeah_. That's what you thought last time," the second girl said in a surprisingly nonchalant, yet matter-of-fact tone, "Gru's a better fighter than you, and a better _villain_ than you, and you _know_ it!"

"Shut _up!_"

Devon could tell Vector was getting riled now, his cheeks were flushed and his glasses were starting to fog, "Keep _quiet_, and _maybe_ I won't decide to feed you all to Phish when we get to my fortress!"

Devon fumbled with her seatbelt, glancing quickly from the bag, to Vector, then the road in front of them. Vector had sped up in his anger, and now they were already almost there.

"So…I know this is my first kidnapping and all…but shouldn't we have left a…ransom note or something?"

Vector's answer to her question was cut off by girl number three whispering much too loudly to her sister, "I wonder who that is. You think _Vector_ has a _girlfriend_?"

Devon went rigid, "Um…_intern!_ Not—"

"What's it to _you_ if I _do_, ya little _brat?_"

She didn't reply, not because she didn't want to press the matter further, but because her older sister had placed a hand over her mouth, "Shh! We don't know the other one," she warned quietly, "she might be a threat."

They finally pulled into Vector's garage. He hurried to get out and grab the sack with the girls.

"Agh! Stop-_squirming!_" a small fist extended from the opening, striking him rather hard in the gut, "Oof! Hey!…Dev! Get over here and _help me!_"

"_Fine! _Fine!" she grabbed one end of the bag, struggling to keep whoever it was she had a hold of from struggling out of her arms and onto the hard floor.

She barely kept from losing her grip when whoever it was she was wrestling cracked a foot against her jaw, "AH! _Jeez!_" she opened her mouth, stretching her jaw to try and ease the pain, "Seriously, kid! I'm gonna drop you if you do that, and you'll smash your head on the floor."

Vector struggled to balance the squirming bag between his arm and his hip as he pressed a series of buttons on the wall. A large, clear suction tube emerged from the ground where they let them drop.

"And _done!_ Mission accomplished," he rubbed his hands together with a grin and chuckled, "I _hope_ they don't get stuck in the _tube…_"

His mood seemed to be improving somewhat from that morning; he had a bit of a bounce to his step as they went up the stairs to the living room. That good mood was taken down a few notches, however, when he spotted a certain fur ball with its head buried inside his couch.

"Wh—what are you _doing_? Get _out_ of there!"

"Petunia! _Bad_ girl!" Devon was about to reprimand her, but Vector stormed over to her before she could stop him.

"GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF MY COUCH!"

"No, _Vector!_" but it was too late. Petunia snapped, and faster than Vector could even react, she had turned around and latched onto his arm.

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! GET IT OFF! GET IT OOOFF!"

"Calm _down,_ Vector! If you struggle, she won't let go!"

"SHE'S BITING MY ARM OFF! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO CALM DOWN?"

"Just hold still," she said calmly, "stop moving…

"Petunia!" she held out a scolding finger, "Let. _Go_."

Petunia growled at her prey, still refusing to release him.

"_Petunia!_"

She gave Vector one last look of annoyance then unlatched her jaws from his wrist.

"Aaaaahahaaagh!" he held his wrist in his other hand and whipped his head toward Devon, "_You!_"

Devon furrowed her eyebrows as Vector approached her irately, "Your _furball_ almost bit my _arm_ off!"

"I _told_ you she gets restless when she's left alone!"

"You didn't tell me she'd try to _eat_ me!"

"I told you not to _scold_ her! She doesn't respond well to people other than me yelling at her!"

Devon grabbed Vector's hand to examine it then shoved it back toward him, "Oh, stop being such a baby! You're not even _bleeding_!"

Vector fumed with a pout that made him look like a little boy, "Ergh! _Forget _it! Come on…we need to check on Gru's brats…"

Devon glared toward Petunia, who seemed to hang her head in shame, "Thanks a lot…"

She followed Vector up to the top level of the fortress where she could now see all three of the girls, sans bag, in a large, glass sphere.

"You really think Gru won't find a way in to rescue us?" the eldest, a girl with a pony tail and glasses, glared back at him, holding the youngest, a little black headed girl carrying a large, white and pink stuffed unicorn.

"_Ha!_ _Highly_ doubtful," he turned to Devon, "Now…_I'm_ going to need to get a few things in order around the _crib_, so I need you to keep an eye on _these_ three."

Devon was taken aback, "Wh! I didn't sign on for babysitting!"

"We'll continue your training after everything's taken care of."

"But…I…I'm not _good_ with kids!"

"You'll be _fine_! What was it you said? _Stop being such a baby?_"

It was Devon's turn to fume. She turned to the girls and cringed, "_Vector!_ They're _staring _at me!" she mumbled through her teeth.

"Come on, it can't be that hard," he headed toward the door, "You chicks have motherly instincts and all that, right?"

"Uh!—"

"I'll be back in a few hours."

"Vector!"

But he was gone.

"Great…" she turned slowly toward the girls.

Oh, Vector was going to pay for this…


	10. Chapter 10

For several seconds, Devon and the three girls sized each other up. The silence was making Devon even more uncomfortable, but she tried not to show it. The oldest of the girls stared her down with an apparent skepticism, and the middle one seemed rather unimpressed. The youngest one disturbed her the most; her huge, curious eyes bore into her expectantly, as if waiting for her to do a trick. She shuddered; she _hated_ dealing with children. She _hated_ it. Why did they have to _stare_ at her like that?

"Who are _you_?" the eldest finally asked.

Devon was shaken back into reality by the snarky tone of her question. She stared down her nose at her, determined not to let a little girl intimidate her.

"Right now, I'm your prison guard," she replied with all the disdain the first girl had spoken with.

"Are you Vector's girlfriend?"

The oldest girl elbowed the middle one at her blatant question.

"_No_, I'm his—"

"Are you his _mommy_?" the youngest one interrupted, pressing her palms against the inside of the glass bubble they were encased in.

She wrinkled her nose, "_What? No!_" although she had to admit, she sometimes felt like she was.

"I'm his intern."

"What's a _intern_?" the youngest asked, those big eyes almost boring through the glass barrier.

"She's his sidekick," the eldest explained.

"Not exactly," she replied, trying not to make her annoyance at the term "sidekick" known, "but close enough."

Devon finally decided she might as well make herself comfortable. She flopped down on the couch, which was just a smaller version of the couch downstairs.

"What's your _name_?" the little one asked.

"D."

"That's a weird name. I'm Agnes, and these are my sisters Margo and Edith!"

"Hm…and _my_ name's weird..."

"I'm _bored!_" Edith complained, sitting down in the middle of the glass bubble and resting her head in her hand.

"Well, you're probably in for a while of that, kid," Devon brought a magazine that had been sitting on the couch up to her face.

She wasn't left to read in peace for long.

"Can we color?"

She eyed Agnes from over the copy of _Squid Fancy_ she pretended to be engaged in, "Not unless you've got stuff in _there_ to color with. I don't know how to open that glass bubble."

"Vector used one of the buttons on the touch screen last time," Margo pointed to the control panel in front of the large screen.

"Last time?" Devon asked, looking up from the magazine, "He's kidnapped you _before_."

"When he got the moon from Mr. Gru!" Agnes nodded.

"Hm…" she turned back to the article on the first page, _Pedigree Cephalopods_.

Before any of the girls could pester her again, the familiar tapping of claws on the hard floor came from the stairs and Petunia trotted in, seemingly in a better mood than she had been a while ago.

"Whoa! What is _that_?" Edith stood up on her knees trying to get a closer look as the chubby animal jumped onto the couch and settled next to her master.

"Eh…that's Petunia…"

"It looks like a _puppy_!" Agnes bounced on her heels.

"Yeah, well, it's not," she eyed the curious girl again, "She's a wolverine. Trust me, you wouldn't want to pet her."

"Do all villains have vicious _pets_?" Margo asked.

"They tend to deter people from prying too much. Plus they're usually better company."

Margo shook her head with a roll of her eyes. Just like another "heartless villain" she knew.

* * *

"_Vector_…I didn't think I would be seeing you back here so soon."

Vector approached his father's desk with a proud look, "Well, dad, it turns out things are progressing a lot faster than first planned. If things continue to go as smoothly as they have been, I should have the money for a new heist by next week."

"Good, _good_," Mr. Perkins nodded, "And how is the intern coming along?"

Vector took his seat on the stool opposite him, "She's got potential! A lot to learn, not gonna lie, but she's a hard worker, I can tell. She'll be playing with the big dogs in _no _time!"

Mr. Perkins cleared his throat, "Of course. Just…remember your priorities, son. Miss Bree is there to help _you_. Use her wisely."

"Oh, sure, dad!" he reached for the bowl of M&Ms he spotted sitting on the desk in front of him, "got 'er watchin' the fortress back home like a _champ_."

Mr. Perkins leaned back in his seat, "_So_…how are the plans for the next heist coming along?"

"Huh?" Vector's eyes had been wondering around with a giddy inattentiveness until they darted back to his father.

"The new heist! I'm sure you have plans…"

"O-oh!" he chuckled, "Yeah, the new heist! Yeah, um…I'm sort of…well I've been…it's just a matter of—"

His father sighed loudly, "Victor…do you _remember_ what I told you about procrastinating?"

Vector hung his head, "…yes…"

"If you want to be successful in this line of work on your own, you _have_ to be on top of things! I would think that I had taught you that by now!"

"I know, I know, dad! Trust me, it'll be big! HUGE!" he leapt from his seat, "Just you wait! The moon will look like no more than a shoplift compared to what _I'll _steal!"

Perkins's mouth formed a thin, straight line, "I look forward to it."

Vector paused, his hand already on the door handle, "Dad?"

"Hm?" Mr. Perkins arched an eyebrow toward his son.

Vector turned toward his father with a smile, "I'll make you proud."

Perkins gave his son a sharp nod, "I hope _so_, son."


	11. Chapter 11

It was all Devon could do to not curl up on the couch and fall asleep.

Although, she wouldn't have been able to if she tried, she was sure. Between the constant whines of "I'm bored", and the incessant derogatory comments from Margo, she was surprised she hadn't murdered one of the little brats yet.

She rolled her eyes as Margo made threats, yet again, of what Gru would do to her if he caught her with them. Not that she doubted her, of course; she would have even welcomed a visit from Gru at this point. Even a beating would have been better than this.

And that _song!_

Agnes had been singing that annoying unicorn song for _two hours_ now, and Devon knew she was nearing her breaking point. She was almost completely positive Margo had been encouraging her to sing it louder and louder.

And people _have_ kids? _Willingly_?

"Mr. Gru dodged six missiles at once one time," Margo bragged, "He could get through just about anything."

She was answered with a disinterested, "Cool story…"

Devon was flipping through the same issue of _Squid Fancy_ for the eleventh time now, trying to pay more attention to the article on "suction cup maintenance" than the girls.

"He punched a shark," Edith piped in. She was now reclining against the glass, hands behind her head and her toboggan pulled down over her eyes.

All the while, sing-song chants of "unicorns, I love them, unicorns I love them" drifted in and out of Devon's consciousness as Agnes belted it out nonstop.

"Ya know, Gru could get into Vector's fortress, no problem. He's done it before."

"He melted a carnival stand."

"Uni-uni-unicoooooorns…I looooove them!"

"There was another time a few weeks ago he stole a country's entire weapon supply."

"Burned a hole right through the steel wall!"

"Uni-unicorns! I could pet one! If they were really real, and THEY ARE!"

On and on and on and on until Devon couldn't hear herself think. Her brain pounded in her head, teeth grinding together and cheeks reddening as if she were about to explode.

"_ALRIGHT!_"

The three girls jumped at the sudden outburst and watched Devon wide-eyed.

"If I find _something, ANYTHING _ for you to do, will you please _shut UP_ and leave me _ALONE?_"

The three glanced at each other, the surprised looks gradually fading from their faces.

Edith's lips curled into a semi-innocent smirk, "_Anything?_"

* * *

Vector was feeling better and better by the second. Better than he had in _months_. He could just imagine the look on Gru's face when he learned of his little scheme. _Priceless._

He had been itching to inform his nemesis since he had performed the deed, but he had held off. It had to be at exactly the right moment; the most important rule of a kidnapping was timing, after all.

But he just couldn't wait! As he pulled his car into the garage, he pressed one of the many glowing buttons on the dash. The windshield lit up, acting as a semi-transparent screen on which a very confused Gru could be seen sitting on a couch that resembled a large crocodile.

"H—wh—_YOU!_"

Vector chuckled, mustering all the wickedness he could, "Yes, Gru, I take it you _missed_ me."

Gru's eyes flashed, "What do you _want, _you little _twerp_?"

Vector pouted mockingly, "Hey! _Hey_! Can't a guy call up his rival just for a little conversation once in awhile?"

"_Well_, I am afraid that your welcome is being worn," Gru held his remote up, about to turn the TV off.

"Ah-ah! Not so fast! I just happen to have a _liiiiittle_ tidbit of info you just _might_ want to hear."

Gru raised an eyebrow toward the screen expectantly, and Vector continued, pretending to examine his nails.

"Do you notice anything…_different_ around your little lair?"

Gru rolled his eyes, "Alright…I will play along. _Ahhh! _Whatever have you _done_ to my _precious_ lair?"

"Oh, not to worry…your stronghold is safe. I was just curious as to whether you had noticed that something was…_missing_?"

Gru feigned concern, "Something is _missing_? Oh, no! My boots are _shivering_!"

"_Three_ somethings, in fact."

"Three someth—" realization hit him, and his expression darkened in less than a second, his tone darkening with it, "What have you _done_ with them?"

Vector giggled cruelly, "Ya want 'em _back_, you come to _my_ place unarmed, and we can discuss my terms. And don't bother trying to infiltrate my fortress; my defenses have been increased _substantially_."

And with one last maniacal cackle, Gru was left to stare at a blank screen.

* * *

Vector practically danced as he entered the fortress that evening. He hummed some little song he had heard on the radio on his way home, crossing the kitchen and making his way up the stairs to the living room.

That was when he heard it. Giggling. _Little girl's_ giggling.

He scowled, "Devon! Deeeeeeev?"

As he neared the sound of the laughter, he realized it was coming from the hatch to the shark tank he used to feed Phish from.

He growled, "I give you one job to do, Dev, and you can't even—"

He stopped in the doorway and gaped. The three girls were in the open hatch where the water was shallow, all three in bathing suits he didn't remember them being in when he had left, and the blond one holding _his_ Squid-launcher. Sitting at the edge of the water was Devon, also clad in swimwear and clearly condoning of the situation.

The giggling stopped as the girls noticed Vector, and he shrieked as he found his face covered with a particularly fat squid. He tugged at the creature, each suction cup detaching with a loud pop only to be replaced with several more from another tentacle.

"Devon, I gave you a job to do!"

"And I'm doing it," she chuckled with a shrug.

He grunted as another tentacle attached itself to his nose, "I told you not to let them out of the glass dome!"

She stood up, dripping water across the floor, "Noooo, you told me to keep an eye on them. You never said anything about letting them out."

"I—" he paused as he realized she was right, "Errrgh! Well that should have gone without saying!"

When he was finally able to detach the squid completely from his face, he grabbed the launcher from Edith and stuffed the animal rather harshly back into the barrel.

"And where did you get _this_?" he waved the Squid-launcher toward her.

"You left it lying on the couch! It looked like a super-soaker to _me_," she fibbed.

"A super-soa— _Listen_, _baby doll_, this is a state of the art weapon designed _by me_! And _any_ second rate villain would _know_ that."

She rolled her eyes with a scoff but decided it wasn't worth it to retaliate just yet.

He wiped off his weapon gingerly and scowled toward his intern, "_Just_ put them back…"

She sighed, "Alright, back to the fish bowl."

The girls groaned in protest, but Margo quickly convinced the other two it was best to comply.

Vector glared as Devon gathered up the kids to lead them back upstairs. However, he found his anger subsiding a bit. It was probably due to the great mood he had been in earlier, though he would be lying if he said it didn't have a little to do with the amount of cleavage Devon's bathing suit was allowing him to see right now.

It was becoming apparent to him that Devon might end up being more of a challenge to mould in his image than he had thought. He simply shrugged it off for the time being; the more challenging she was, the more impressed his father would be once he was successful. There was really no need to get frustrated yet.

Besides, he had a master plan to unfold.


End file.
